


Not a Puppy

by Escalus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Missing Scene, Moral Ambiguity, Scisaac Week, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 02-03 Hiatus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-23 08:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escalus/pseuds/Escalus
Summary: Isaac Lahey took the Bite when Derek Hale offered it to him as a way to no longer be a victim.  He wasn't going to become a werewolf that others had to pity or look after.  He took it to get what he wanted.   When the Hale Pack wasn't fighting for their lives, what he wanted was Scott McCall.
Relationships: Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall
Comments: 28
Kudos: 155
Collections: Scisaac Week





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never liked the idea that Isaac Lahey was just a sad little puppy that needed love and attention. He was an angry aggressive young man who saw what he wanted and never let anyone tell him no. If he were to have entered a romantic relationship with Scott McCall, I think it would have looked something like this.

Isaac studied the black eye in the mirror and daydreamed of killing his father. It wasn’t a very elaborate fantasy. His father would start up, as he always did, over something minor, winding himself up until he got angry enough to beat Isaac or lock him in the freezer. In the daydream, Isaac, instead of standing there passive and dumb, as he always did in real life, would grab something nearby — maybe a hammer or a carving knife or a framed picture — and hit his father until he stopped moving. 

He had daydreamed of a scenario like that many times. There was always a flash of pleasure in the end, but it wasn’t anywhere close to becoming a reality.

He had other daydreams as well, ones that got him by on difficult days. Sometimes, his father would get hit by a car coming home from work. Sometimes, Isaac would come home from school and his mother would be there, cooking in the kitchen just like she used to, and his father was nowhere to be found. He used to daydream that Camden would surprise them all by coming back alive, so his father wouldn’t be so angry all the time, but as he grew older that dream happened less and less.

Isaac had learned to be practical about these things. 

Suddenly he caught sight of movement on the other side of the graveyard. A clawed hand wrapped itself around a tombstone.

**~*~**

To say that Derek’s offer tempted him would be an understatement. Daydreams were one thing; they helped strengthen him between moments of terror. But power – _real power_ – that was quite another thing.

Derek had been fearless in confronting whoever it had been in the dark. Derek had lifted the overturned backhoe by himself. When he pulled Isaac out of the open grave, Isaac could feel the power in the man. Isaac wanted that. 

Honestly, he had barely listened to Derek’s pitch. Yeah, there would be hunters. The difference between life at his home and life fighting hunters would simply be the fact that he finally _could_ fight. Yeah, there would be a responsibility to the pack, the pack to which Isaac would belong. Nothing in life was free. Yeah, there would be the need for discipline and the chance that he would slip and hurt someone. He might even kill someone.

As Isaac lay in his bed afterward, he made a list of the people he would like to be near when he lost control.

It’s not that he didn’t have second thoughts. Derek gave him a night and a day to think it over. And there were things to think over. 

But in the end, he said yes because he didn’t have any other ideas. He had never had a plan to make his life better. All he had been trying to do was survive until he graduated, until he could get out of that house. 

As he walked down the stairs into the old train station, when he saw Derek’s eyes glow red in the dark, he wondered to himself if werewolves needed plans.

**~*~**

The rain had started as he rode his bike like a madman through the streets of Beacon Hills. He could hear his father’s car far behind but still following and getting closer.

He was afraid. _He’s coming after me!_

He was angry. _He wasn’t supposed to be able to frighten me anymore!_

He was confused. _Why would he run to Derek?_

Derek hadn’t said anything about any urge to seek out his alpha for comfort. It _sickened_ Isaac. He didn’t really know Derek; how could he? They’d just met the day before, and yet, he wanted -- he _needed_ \-- to find Derek.

The feeling was too close to the feeling that made him go home every day. Too close to why he never struck his father, even though he hated what his father did to him. Too close to why he never told anyone. It was that feeling in your gut that _you weren’t supposed to_ resist. You couldn’t fight against this feeling, even though you knew you would never be happy until you got rid of it.

Before he could reach the train station, he stopped, arrested by a new scent on the air, bright and metallic, strong even in the pouring rain. It ended up being his father’s blood.

**~*~**

Lacrosse practice the next morning was far stranger than usual. He had gone because he didn’t know what else to do, and Derek didn’t have any useful suggestions. Of course, in the locker room he heard Scott’s whisper to Stiles that he had felt another werewolf. Isaac had felt Scott as well. He had no idea that could happen; Derek hadn’t warned him about Scott or given him any advice about how to get through school.

He didn’t say anything to Scott because he didn’t know if he was supposed to say anything.

Scott and Stiles’ plan at practice was … insanely stupid. On the other hand, he didn’t know what to do but to stand there and wait to be found.

Jackson backed out of the line after watching Scott try to sniff half the team, yet Isaac stood there waiting. With a vertiginous spike in his belly, he realized he wanted to be discovered. He wanted to show his teeth to the other predator. The very thought thrilled him.

When the whistle sounded he tore across the field to meet Scott’s rush head on. They hit, twisting in the air, and in that moment, from that challenge, Isaac felt more alive than he had in a very long time. On their ground, their glowing eyes met across the pitch as equals, and Isaac didn’t know if he wanted to claw Scott up or fuck him. Considering the taste of blood on his lips and what was going on underneath his uniform, probably both. 

Then the coach had to ruin it by blowing his irritating whistle. Then the sheriff had to ruin it even more by arresting him.

**~*~**

Derek and Isaac walked back towards the train station after leaving Stiles to clean up the mess with his father

“You didn’t tell me,” Isaac accused. 

Derek looked over, confused. “Tell you what?”

“You didn’t tell me you could roar like that,” Isaac said, while he didn’t say, _make me cower like that._

“I’m the alpha,” Derek replied, still confused. The way he said it, Derek must have felt as if the title was supposed to explain everything. 

It occurred to Isaac then that Derek didn’t understand him; that Derek couldn’t understand him. He was a born wolf, and he was acting as born wolves did. He didn’t think he had to tell Isaac about the emotional bond between them because it would be like Isaac having to tell someone how to breathe. He wondered what else Derek hadn’t told him about.

Derek wasn’t his father; Isaac knew that much. Derek didn’t look for ways to control him or hurt him, but that didn’t make Isaac feel any better, because Derek didn’t need to look for ways to do it. They were now hard-wired into his body. 

It was too late for regrets though. It was too late for a lot of things.

**~*~**

Derek sat fuming in the driver's seat. Erica and he were in the back seat, almost completely healed from their defeat at the hands of Scott at the ice rink. Boyd was quiet and contemplative in the passenger’s seat.

Erica spoke first. She wanted the alpha not to be mad at her. “He’s been a werewolf longer than we have.”

“That’s not the problem.” Derek bit the words off.

She fell back into the seat and away from him. Erica reached out her hand, and Isaac grabbed it. 

“He was bit in January. Six weeks isn’t a long time. But that’s not the problem.” Derek said the phrase again, and Isaac watched Derek bury his worry in anger.

“Then why don’t you tell us what the problem is?” Isaac demanded, as surly as he dared, leaving off _and stop being a bitch about it._

“Packs are stronger,” Derek said, driving fast down a darkened road. “I don’t mean in terms of numbers, I mean in terms of actual power. You should be stronger, faster, and heal more quickly than he does. He’s an omega. I sent you to fight him to prove that point to him.”

“So something’s wrong with us?” Erica questioned and gripped his hand.

“I don’t know,” the alpha replied.

“It’s not always about strength,” Boyd said suddenly, looking out the window. “He beat you two because he was fighting for what he believed in, and you were fighting because you were ordered to do it.”

Isaac thought about that on the rest of the way back to the station.

**~*~**

“Hey,” said Erica, “He’s just worried.”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, holding his arm so the edges of the broken bone wouldn’t grind against each other. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Erica came and put her hands on his shoulders. She was trying to comfort him, and he appreciated it, but he was still angry. 

“He shouldn’t treat us like that.” Isaac sounded bitter to his own ears. “He certainly shouldn’t treat you like that.” 

Erica tried to brush it off with a laugh. 

“I’m serious, Erica.”

“We’re at war. It’s not like I won’t be using this—” She ran her hands down her body, seductively. “To get what I want.”

“That’s different. You’re not a Bond girl.” Isaac sounded frustrated even to his own ears. He liked Erica; he would have found her attractive before the Bite, but the way that she used her sex appeal aggressively to claim her place now turned him off. 

“I am what I want to be, Isaac.” She sniffed at him. “What do you want to be?”

Isaac lifted his wounded arm, heedless of the pain. “Someone who doesn’t have to worry about the Big Bad Wolf breaking a bone every time I open my mouth. Unless you think I deserved it.”

“No,” Erica faltered.

“You’ll heal,” Boyd offered from the darkness behind them.

“It still hurts,” Isaac snapped back. “And I healed from all the times my father punched me, too. Just more slowly.”

**~*~**

By the time Derek had sent them after the kanima, Isaac was ready to kill someone. It might as well be Lydia Martin.

So far, the things he had gotten from the Bite had been a dead father, fugitive status, broken bones, and getting his butt kicked by Scott McCall. Derek had promised him the strength to fight back, but all he had done was fight for Derek.

He felt like a fool. He’d traded in pain and fear at home for pain and fear in a filthy abandoned train station. 

Tormenting the kidnapped Jackson Whittemore had been fun though, almost as much fun as striding into Beacon Hills High School to the stares and whispers of the student body. He had a reputation now and he played it up, black leather and all.

Smirking, he sprawled into a seat the row ahead of Scott McCall, feeling the other werewolf’s eyes bore into the back of his head. 

“What are you doing here?” Scott hissed.

Isaac turned around lazily. “I think this is math class.”

“They’ll arrest you! Do you want to be arrested?”

“No, I don’t think they will. What difference does it make to you?”

Scott blinked twice. “I don’t want you to be arrested.”

Isaac’s smirk faltered a bit as he turns around his seat. That sounded remarkably sincere, but it probably meant nothing. At that point, Stiles burst into the room with the good news.

**~*~**

Winding up Stilinski was only briefly entertaining.

For all the times Isaac had heard — hell, the whole school had heard — Stiles mock his best friend as slow, Scott had nothing on him when it came to the sheer amount of stupidity Stiles Stilinski could manifest. Who did he think he was talking to with his impotent threats? Did he think he was a match for a werewolf? Because he was talking to one like he was a match for a werewolf.

He’d take Lydia Martin’s severed head and hand it to this asshole. “Now, bitch, make me into a fur coat like you promised.” That’s what he’d say, and then the little dweeb would piss his pants and run to his daddy. 

He’d encountered plenty of kids like Stilinski. Arrogant, shitty boys with arrogant, shitty mouths, who only dared to speak like that to other people because papa had a badge and a pistol or maybe a lawyer for a dad like Jackson or maybe any parent that gave a damn, really. They were all talk. 

And Stiles would find out soon enough that talk was all he was, for Lydia — Miss Come Back with an Engine, Not a Chain — Martin had failed the test. According to Derek, she was the kanima, though Derek wanted Erica and him to kill her, instead of doing it himself.

It was better than nothing, Isaac supposed. He wondered how the blood on his claws would feel.

**~*~**

Isaac had to admit he screwed up. While Erica had focused on finding Lydia, their target in the McCall house, Isaac had decided to keep having fun with Stilinski. The little punk loved to flap his smart mouth, so Isaac tossed him around the living room for a while. Scott was going to have an awful time explaining to his mother about the crushed vases and the smashed end table, though he was probably going to have so much more difficulty explaining Lydia’s ravaged corpse.

Isaac put his hand to his ear as Stiles tried to crawl away. “Where’s your snappy comeback, Stiles? Aren’t you going to tell me how badly you’re going to kick my ass?”

“Fuck you,” Stiles spat on the ground. 

Isaac picked him up and threw him over on the couch. “Language. It’s funny you think you’re so much better than me.”

“I know I am.”

“Bullshit. If you didn’t want to stick your dick into her, would you be fighting this hard to save her? If the kanima had been Jackson, would you be putting up this much of a fight?” 

Stiles didn’t say anything, but he did smile. 

“What’re you so happy about?” 

“I think that would be me,” Scott said and swung his fist hard.

**~*~**

Boyd came to find Isaac as he sat on the roof of the subway station. He was throwing rocks easily into the empty parking lot across the street. Boyd sat down silently next to him.

“Do you think he knows what he’s doing?” Isaac demanded. “Why is he so focused on the kanima? Who cares if Gerard wasn’t afraid?”

Boyd shrugged. The night moved on. Cars drove past with their headlights.

“Do you like Erica?” Boyd’s voice startled him. 

“Uh. Yeah. But well …” Isaac was at a loss. “I mean, I like her as a friend. She’s hot, yeah, but … she’s not my type.” 

“No?”

“I don’t know my type.” Isaac blushed, but then he grew irritated. “Why are you even bringing this up now?”

“Someone has to,” Boyd said amiably.

Isaac stared at him. “I … I don’t follow.”

“You didn’t join to fight the Argents.” Boyd spoke clearly, without anger or fear. “Neither did Erica. Neither did I.”

“But we have to.”

“Yeah.” Boyd made it sound so simple. “But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t get what we want, too.”

**~*~**

Isaac watched Scott leave to go stop the Argents from disrupting the plan. The weight of the syringe wasn’t much in his hand. He tried to regain his composure. If anyone had seen him like that, it wouldn’t be cool. He tried on a sneer instead.

“What a fucking goofball.”

He walked away to find Erica, for the plan was that they’d corner Jackson somehow, but his mind didn’t move on. Why would Scott say such a thing to him? Scott had beaten him in a fight twice. If he were being honest with himself, Isaac had pretty much deserved it both times. But here was this dumbass saying that he was worried about Isaac getting hurt. What a tool.

But he still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He tried to push it to the side. It was just another person in a long line of people who thought they could help, but would never be able to. It really wasn’t their fault. What type of teacher would want to make an accusation against a popular coach? Especially after that coach had lost his wife and then his oldest son in a span of a short years. 

Scott would be just another person who couldn’t deliver on what they promised.

“Are you ready?” 

Erica’s question made him almost jump out of his skin. He hadn’t noticed her approach. 

“Yeah. Let’s go get that lizard bastard.”

**~*~**

When he lost control, he fled, diving out of the window of the train car, abandoning Derek and Boyd and Erica. He had no idea where he was going, only that he had to get away from those that could hurt him.

His alpha could hurt him. Derek could control him, force him to do what he wanted, lock him away if he desired. 

Boyd and Erica could hurt him. They could be like Camden. They could die. 

So he had to get away. 

The world was a haze of red and white. Red from the blood that pounded in his veins and covered his vision. White from the moon pouring down from the sky to cover everything until he could barely tell one spot from another.

He paused, claws stretching to their greatest extent. On the street, there was … someone. Someone who could hurt him. Someone he could hurt. It would be so easy, and he had been denied so long. He could hurt someone else for a change. 

_See the whole board._

Around fangs that were filling his mouth, he answered. “But I’m losing.”

_Maybe. Or maybe there’s another way you aren’t aware of because you haven’t found it yet. It’s so easy to get caught up in what’s right in front of you, that you can miss an alternative that will let you win._

He could feel the burning in his eyes as they glowed. “But, Dad, how will I find it?”

_Take a deep breath. Take a step back. Calm down._

Isaac took a deep breath. He took a step back. He calmed down. 

_See the whole board._

He could hurt that poor man walking down the street not knowing what he was doing, but what good would that do? He could protect Boyd and Erica like he couldn’t protect Camden. And if Derek couldn’t be what he needed him to be, there were alternatives to running away. 

He went back to see how the others were doing.

**~*~**

“I can’t believe Scott would do that!” Erica shouted.

“I can. Why can't you?” Boyd was as calm as always. 

“He’s working with Gerard!” Erica spit fire. “And I’m sure it’s for the sake of his shitty girlfriend.” 

Isaac was the one who was quiet this time. He dug his claws into the palms of his hands to keep from growling. 

“I doubt that he betrayed us,” Boyd replied, for which he was rewarded with shocked looks from both of them.

“Derek said—” Isaac began.

“Derek overheard a conversation, one that we can assume in which Scott was lying through his teeth.”

Erica frowned at him. “How do you know that?”

“Think about it. If Scott had really sold us out to Gerard, why are we still alive? We’ve been using the train station for weeks; Scott knew we were here and where it was. We could have been surrounded by hunters at any time. If Scott had actually told Gerard our names — at least Erica’s and my name — he could send people to wait for us when we went home. He’s told them nothing.”

Isaac snarled. “Maybe Gerard wants to get us all at once.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Derek told us that we’re stronger as a pack, so a werewolf hunter like Gerard would know that. If Gerard wanted to kill Derek, it would be the smart play to kill us first. Something else is going on.”

“Scott lied to us,” protested Erica. 

“He lied to _Derek._” Isaac corrected her. He saw where Boyd was heading. “He didn’t say anything to us.”

“He doesn’t have any reason to trust Derek or us, for that matter. How many times have we attacked Scott or his friends?” 

“Derek saved his life,” Erica rejoined.

“From what I hear, they’ve both saved each’s other lives.” 

“Saving a life is a good deed, not a strategy. It’s about survival.” Boyd ended the argument. “Scott made a choice for the survival of his pack and it wasn’t to side with Derek, because he doesn’t trust Derek. Neither do I.”

Erica frowned, seemingly ashamed.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

“Erica and I are leaving. You should come with us.”

Isaac felt his jaw drop. As much as he had sometimes hated the bond between him and Derek, he had never thought about leaving. 

Boyd put his hand on his shoulder. “Derek has a goal, but he doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t know how to stop Jackson, he doesn’t know how to stop Gerard, and he can’t keep allies. Yet he’s not going to retreat because he thinks this is all his responsibility.”

Erica nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to die for his dead family.”

Isaac almost said yes right away. Boyd hadn’t spoken a word that Isaac didn’t believe on some level. Yet, there was still someone he had to talk to.

**~*~**

Scott stood there, shell-shocked with the news that Isaac had just delivered about Jackson’s appearance at lacrosse practice. Even though he had come to the other werewolf for advice, Scott standing paralyzed with the news in front of him pleased Isaac.

“Yeah. He’s playing.”

A host of emotions crossed Scott’s face. “Fuck me.”

Isaac smirked, but he didn’t go for the obvious opening. He took a step forward, licked his lips. 

“I guess I’m going to have to play anyway,” Scott said glumly. 

“Or you don’t have to.”

Scott shook his head, unaware of Isaac’s approach. “If Jackson’s playing, that’s a reason. I have to be there.”

“Or not.” Isaac lowered his voice. “You could keep Stiles and your mother and everyone you care about away from the game.”

“I can’t.” Scott turned away. “You don’t understand …”

“What don’t I understand?” 

Scott didn’t answer; he went over to the corner of the examination room and rested his head on the wall, like he was a kindergartner in time out. Isaac watched as he stood there, and he watched the shoulders sag under the weight of what of the thoughts running through his head. 

Isaac stalked over so he was standing right behind him. Scott’s vulnerability made him salivate. “Do you have a plan?”

“Kinda.” 

“Huh. Want to tell me what it is?”

Scott did not turn away from the corner. “No. I can’t. It’s not much of a plan, it’s more like … it's something that can happen if someone does what I think they’re going to do.”

“So, it’s a fail safe.”

With that, Scott turned around. “Yeah.” He then realized how close Isaac was standing to him. “Uhm. Did you want something?”

“Yes.” Isaac hovered closer, breaking the line of personal space. “I want to understand you. Don’t you ever get tired of doing the right thing?”

“I thought that …” Scott gulped. “I thought that’s why you trusted me.”

“It is, but it’s still a question. Don’t you want to do something for you?” Isaac reached out and put a hand on the side of Scott’s face. 

“What are you doing?”

Isaac moved closer, pinning Scott into the corner. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Why?” 

“Because maybe I want to have someone to stay for?” Isaac brought his face down next to Scott’s and slid his other hand down towards his crotch.

Scott caught that hand by the wrist. He didn’t squeeze it hard, but he stopped its movement. “Is this some sort of game like Erica was playing?”

“No.” Isaac shook his head. 

“I can’t. I’m with Allison.” Firmly, but without anger, Scott pushed Isaac away. 

Isaac wanted to snarl, to snap that Scott couldn’t have seen Allison since the raid on the station, but he didn’t. He was a predator, and if he startled his prey, they would run. 

“Okay.”

“But …” Scott said softly. “I could use a friend, if you did stay.” 

He didn’t reply, but as he left the clinic, he wondered whether he should show up at the championship game that night.


	2. Chapter 2

The most important thing that Isaac wanted to do this particular summer was find Boyd and Erica, and if that meant working with Derek — with whom he was angry — and Peter — whom he didn’t like — then that was what he would do. No one would be able to make him enjoy it.

He had stood before the burned-out ruins of the Hale House and listened, without mounting frustration, to Derek and Peter argue about the Alpha Pack. If Derek had noticed Isaac’s utter disappointment that his alpha had hidden something as important as the alphas’ probable arrival, he hadn’t commented on it. 

Isaac was willing to admit that Derek had tried his best, but Derek had been owned, repeatedly and thoroughly, by the kanima, by Gerard, and, in the end, even by Scott. For all his posturing about being the alpha, he had been outfought, outmaneuvered, and outwitted. Isaac’s confidence in Derek’s leadership reached a new low as they determined that it was this new enemy that had snatched his pack mates. 

On the other hand, Derek wasn’t going to abandon Boyd and Erica. After hearing from Chris Argent that the hunter had let the pair of them go from the Argent torture basement, Derek had dragged Peter and Isaac to that home — far closer than Isaac would have liked — and tracked Boyd and Erica into the forest. 

They lost the trail there, not by any artifice or accident, but because the duo’s scents had become inseparably mixed in with four or five other scents. They weren’t sure of the number because a couple of the spoors seemed almost identical. Derek assumed it was the Alpha Pack, and Peter reluctantly agreed.

But Derek didn’t give up that night or any night since, which was why Isaac didn’t give up on him, as much as it was tempting to distance himself.

Yet after all, Isaac wouldn’t have anywhere else to go, even if he chose to move on, so what was the point of complaining. He could keep to himself when he wasn’t searching with Derek, he avoided Peter like the plague, and he forged some life out of that. 

In the end, that life was better than the one he had at the start of the year, and he had new dreams. He had his own, more enjoyable plans for the summer.

**~*~**

Isaac couldn’t have told anyone why he had come to this particular location. He wasn’t interested in anything about Stiles Stilinski, wasn’t particularly interested in his opinions or his attitude, yet here he was, standing in the driveway of his home like an idiot.

He should have gone directly to Scott’s, but that would reveal that he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say to the omega. He imagined freezing up on the McCall stoop and embarrassing himself. He wouldn’t have that problem if he talked to Stiles first; the human wouldn’t need prompting to talk about … almost anything.

Isaac sighed, dramatically; there was no putting it off any longer. In the fading light of a summer’s evening, he knocked on the door of the Stilinski house. When that door finally swung open, it wasn’t the person Isaac had expected to see but his father, the Sheriff. Isaac had never seen Noah Stilinski in civilian clothes now with a beer in his hand. “Hello?”

“Uhm.” Isaac cursed himself inwardly; sometimes he was such a fucking loser. “Is Stiles home?”

“Stiles!” Even as the sheriff turned his head to shout for his son, he didn’t leave the doorway. He had effectively blocked it and returned to regard the visitor. “Hey, aren’t you Isaac Lahey?”

“Uhm.” Isaac was going to throw himself off the nearest bridge. “Yes, sir.” 

Suspicion dawned in the man’s eyes. Noah was clearly remembering arresting Isaac on suspicion of his father’s murder. “What did you want with Stiles?”

Before Isaac could think of an answer that would allay the sheriff’s suspicions, there was an avalanche of feet on the stairs and Stiles appeared in the foyer, breathing heavily. “Lacrosse!” he shouted.

“What?” Isaac and the sheriff said at the same time. 

“Isaac is on the lacrosse team with me. Remember? He’s here to talk about next season and how he can learn from me on how to be a star lacrosse player!” Stiles gabbled at fifty miles an hour, throwing an insane amount of confidence behind his unsupported words. 

Isaac and the sheriff narrowed their gazes at Stiles in odd synchronization. There was a pause and then the sheriff whirled on Isaac. “Is this true?”

“Dad!”

“Uhm.” _Smooth, Lahey, smooth._ “Yes. He was the MVP of the state championship.”

The sheriff looked between the two of them, clearly still suspicious. “We’ll talk later, Stiles.”

Stiles grabbed Isaac by the arm and pulled him up to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Okay, wolf-boy, what’s wrong now? Did Head Furball in Charge piss another family of hunters off? Did he bite someone and they’ve turned into an Angry Were-Bison?” 

“No.” Isaac had been told to tell no one about the Alpha Pack or any details about Boyd and Erica, so he had to lie. “There’s nothing wrong.”

Stiles face indicated he totally did not believe a single word coming out of Isaac’s mouth. “So why are you here, darkening my doorstep and creating another reason for me to have to convincingly lie to my father?”

Isaac found Stiles irritating and mystifying at the same time. The human had to know that a werewolf was standing in front of him, had to know what Isaac could do, but Stiles just went on as if he hadn’t been manhandled repeatedly by both sides of a supernatural war. If someone looked foolishly brave in the dictionary, they would find a picture of Stiles’ stupid face grinning at them.

“I haven’t been able to find Scott tonight.”

“Does this look like Scott’s house?”

“No.” Isaac snarled a little; Stiles got under his skin easy. “If I had found him at his house, why would I be here?”

Stiles frowned at the logic and then shrugged. “He’s busy, but he’s around. Why do you want to see him, anyway?”

“He’s an omega.”

Bristling, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Not this shit again. He’s fine. Your Lord High Alpha said he had his own pack.”

Isaac chuckled. “You don’t think Derek was serious, do you?” He was truly glad that Stiles couldn’t tell the sheer amount of lies that were spilling out of his mouth. “Two humans don’t make a real pack. And even if humans counted, which they don’t, and, and Scott was an alpha, which he isn’t, he’d still need three betas to be stable.” 

“One human,” Stiles muttered without thinking and then looked like he wanted to bite his own tongue off. 

“Are you mad at Scott or something?”

“No! Allison and he broke up. She went to France. For the summer, but Scott’s not sure that she’ll come back.”

“Hmm.” Isaac focused his attention on the rack of games near Stiles’ desk so his smirk couldn’t be seen.

“Do you blame her?” 

“Not really. We both know how tough it is to lose a parent and be manipulated, but since Allison stabbed me — a lot — I wouldn’t really mind if she never came back. But that means I need to check on him even more. Derek told me she was his anchor.”

“_He’s. Fine._” Stiles said mulishly. 

Isaac smirked. “If that’s so, then where is he?”

“I don’t know, but I know he’s busy. He has summer school. He’s got to work really hard to bring his grades back up after all the shit your alpha put him through. And I know he’s also working extra hours at the clinic.”

“Feeling lonely, Stiles?”

“Oh, fuck you. I’m not a baby who needs my hand held every day, and it’s obvious I’m seeing more of Scott than you are. Now you scurry back to Papa Wolf and give your report.”

Isaac saluted him ironically and sauntered out of the room and out the door, happily avoiding the sheriff. This was good news.

**~*~**

When Scott finished summer school classes the next day, Isaac was waiting for him by the bicycle rack. He had the afternoon free, so he had gone to his old home and selected a good pair of jeans and a white shirt that looked good when he left the sleeves unbuttoned and the collar open.

“Hey.” Scott stopped short of the bike rack and treated Isaac to one of his big, genuine smiles. It always floored Isaac that Scott would react to him like that. Not too many weeks ago, they’d been hostile to each other if not outright enemies. Now, Scott acted as if that was all in the past. 

“Summer school?” 

“Yeah. I got behind.” Scott looked sheepishly full of regret. “Really, really behind.”

“Loser.” 

Scott looked momentarily hurt. “Hey! It’s not easy to study for algebra when you get turned …” He trailed off, realizing that Isaac would be one of the few people to understand. “How did you do?”

“Well enough that I don’t have to go summer school.” Isaac winked at him.

“Oh.” Scott’s disappointment intensified.

“Don’t act like that. I had _extenuating circumstances:_ my dad was murdered and I was accused of it. Teachers will overlook a lot of shit, especially if it’s tragic. You should have told your teachers that a burn-crazed alpha tried to mind control you for weeks and you had to poison a cancer patient.”

Scott gawped in response, but after a moment, his mind caught, causing him to laugh out loud. “No, I don’t think I should have.”

“See? You don’t have anyone else to blame if you don’t make use of your opportunities.”

“I don’t really mind,” Scott replied as he started unchaining his bike. 

“You don’t really mind going to summer school? I don’t believe that.”

“It’s something I can do, where there’s no blood. No one is going to die in class — well, except Brian keeps threatening to slit his wrists in Economics, but I don’t think he’s serious. No one’s going to point a gun at me. I could use a little summer school.”

“I think you could use a little fun.” 

Scott looked back at him shyly. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go to work.”

“You don’t work all night, do you?” 

“I have homework to do after that”

“It’s Friday.”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck as he ran out of excuses. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Isaac whistled. “And they said you were slow.”

“I …” Scott looked torn, choosing to stare at the ground. “Okay. As long as you understand it’s just a date.”

“What do you think I think it would be?”

“Allison and I are broken up, but I hope we’re going to get back together. I told her I believed that.”

Isaac sniffed and then narrowed his eyes. “You don’t sound very convincing, even if I do have an ulterior motive.”

“No.” Scott voice was a little sad. That’s not the effect for which Isaac had been going. “I guess it wasn’t. But I’m not going to say yes to a date to you without putting all the cards on the table.”

“Fine.” Isaac could work with that, even though it was a bit of a mood killer. At least, Isaac though wryly, we’re being ethical. “I’ll just have to win you over with my charms.”

Scott nodded, distractedly. “I gotta go soon. When and where?”

“Try to have a little more enthusiasm? It’s a date not a prisoner swap. You see _The Cabin in the Woods_ yet?”

“I’ve kind of avoided horror movies.”

“We’ll laugh at the monster together,” Isaac pointed at him. “Meet me at the Cinema Eight at nine thirty.” 

“Okay.”

And that was all it took.

**~*~**

The night air was steamy when compared with the chill air conditioning of the movie theater, as they walked down the street after the movie ended. Isaac studied Scott out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t like it?”

“No.” Scott shrugged and his shoulders didn’t rise that far, as if he were tired. “I guess I didn’t.”

The street echoed with their footsteps, even as Isaac guided them down an alley. If they had been two regular teenagers, going down an alley in this part of the city would have been dangerous and stupid. But they weren’t, and Isaac smirked at the shadows. Anyone hoping to roll two dumb kids for their money were in for a big surprise. 

“The whole story is a little nihilistic.” 

“Oooooh, big word.” Isaac laughed. “But honestly, I’d say it was a _lot_ nihilistic.”

“The movie’s premise is that nothing you do matters. That all the things that humanity has accomplished don’t matter.”

“Well, that’s the horror part …” 

“Yeah, but it also pretends that trying to do something is worse than doing nothing. Were those teenagers not supposed to fight for their lives? Were those lab people supposed to let the world end?”

“I think it’s supposed to scare you.”

“But it didn’t.” Scott shrugged. “I don’t know, it kind of made me feel … sad. Not really sad, kind of just … I didn’t like it.”

“That wasn’t really my goal. Let me make it up to you.”

This makes the other boy eye him suspiciously. “How are you going to do that?”

“We should go dancing.”

Scott suddenly broke out of his funk and looked around him. He recognize where Isaac had lead him. “The Jungle?” 

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yeah. This was where Derek, Stiles, and I chased Jackson after he left my house. Matt was trying to kill Danny.”

“Uh.”

“It’s fine, but I don’t think we’ll be able to get in. They’re going to be carding more carefully after Jackson paralyzed so many people.”

“We could always break open the back door,” Isaac pointed at it.

“Been there, done that. What else you got?”

After a moment to contemplate various entry points, Isaac loped down the side alley. With a running start, his leap got him to the roof of the building next to the club’s. “That window’s open. Come on.”

Scott peaked around the corner of the Jungle at the line of people waiting to get into the club, and then glanced up at Isaac on the roof. “Last time it was an emergency.”

“This is an emergency, too. We can’t let our evening be ruined. We can slip the bartender the cover charge later, if it really bothers you.”

The omega hesitated. 

“You know you want to see what it’s like when you’re not chasing a murder lizard.”

A slow smile spread across Scott’s face. “You’re going to turn me into a delinquent.” He did the same thing in the alley, landing next to Isaac. 

“Bullshit. You were always a rebel.” 

“Was not.”

Isaac turned and slid open a second story window. “That’s not what I heard.”

“What did you hear from whom?” 

As Scott stepped into the darkened room, Isaac guided him but let his hand linger on his ass. “Certain members of a certainly family that might or might not rhyme with shale complain you have an obsessive dislike of being told what to do.”

Scott scuttled into the room, a little surprised by that maneuver. “That’s not really true.”

“So I have a chance?”

This brought Scott to a halt, while he was trying to find an inside doorway. “A chance?”

“To tell you what to do.”

Werewolf eyes process available light more efficiently, so Isaac saw Scott blush to his hairline even in the near dark.

The conversation died because they needed to navigate the back areas of The Jungle until they got to the main floor. It would be difficult to explain to the employees what they were doing in the back areas, but once they reached the bar, they were home free. Neither of them would be ordering any alcohol, because it was pretty much useless for them to do so, and the bartenders didn’t bother to card anyone who didn’t try. Once customers got past the bouncers, the bartenders didn’t keep tabs on them.

Once they reached the main venue, Scott stopped dead in his tracks as if his memories of this place stunned him. Isaac sidled up behind him, letting the other boy know he was there. Maybe Scott’s memories were good or bad, but he had come to rest like a fawn in headlights. Isaac couldn’t quite get a read on the situation. On the other hand, he wanted to impress Scott, and the best way to do that was to act cool, so he grabbed Scott by the wrist and pulled him to the darkest, most crowded part of the dance floor.

Isaac had chosen the darkest area, because he wasn’t sure how good he looked when he danced. He hadn’t gone to the Winter Formal earlier that year, so he didn’t know if Scott would be any better at it than he was. But it was important to him that neither of them would feel self-conscious. He didn’t want to spend their date with insecurity as a third wheel. 

His second point was to get as physically close to Scott as possible. The press of bodies around them pushed them together, as he had planned. As he was taller than Scott, Isaac found he could rest his chin on the top of Scott’s head if he really wanted to do so. The idea of it suddenly made him feel as if someone had doused him in kerosene and lit a match.

Scott glanced around, a little lost by the tight pack of club-goers. He was trying to fit in, and he wasn’t doing that bad a job, but he was also trying to dance without touching any of the other dancers. Isaac worked his jaw; that hadn’t been the point.

Isaac reached out with a long arm and slid it down Scott’s back, pulling him closer. He felt Scott’s body tense up as if expecting an attack. When one didn’t come, when Scott realized what was happening, Isaac felt his muscles relax.

The music was so loud that conversation was pretty much impossible. Isaac’s own body throbbed to the beat, bass so deep that it even a human could feel it in their bones. For a werewolf, it was like being inside a gigantic human heart. 

After initial hesitation, Scott had let Isaac pull him closer until they were plastered up against each other. Isaac felt like he was taking possession of something, adding it to himself. He left one long arm wrapped around Scott’s shoulders, but he moved the other one down Scott’s lower back until he was gripping the boy’s ass through his jeans.

For his part, Scott just tried to keep in time with the music, tried to _think_ about dancing. Eventually, he gave up thinking and started letting Isaac’s body move his to the beat. He lifted one arm and wrapped loosely around Isaac’s waist. The touch was gentle, as if Isaac was a bird that Scott could crush if he squeezed too hard. 

This wouldn’t do. Isaac brought his head down to Scott’s ear and growled, a real growl, one that only a real werewolf could make. Scott raised his head in response, so, in the dim terrain of the club saw the momentary yellow pulse of Isaac’s eyes. Scott’s own eyes responded; the arm on the small of Isaac’s back tightened.

Scott’s other hand, responding to the increase in intensity, slid up under Isaac’s shirt, feeling up his side. Mysteriously, instinctively, Scott found the place where Isaac had been bitten. He pressed on it, and Isaac wasn’t sure what that meant, but it meant something, for it sent a thrill up his side.

They spent five or six dances like that. Isaac wasn’t sure. Finally, they pulled apart and worked their way off the dance floor.

“You want something to drink?” Isaac asked.

“No.” Scott’s voice came out mellowed and blissed out, almost as if he had been drugged.

“You okay there?”

“Let’s go home.”

Scott led them both on the way out of the club. He blew by the bouncer, Isaac hot on his heels. Scott moved like a man with a purpose, but Isaac could figure out what he was feeling.

“Hey, Scott.” Isaac worried that he had somehow blown it, but he tried very hard not to let that seep into his voice. “Scott, where are we going?”

Scott stopped on the corner. The light turned against them, from red to green. Scott took a deep breath and then spoke without turning around. “What do you want?”

The non sequitur unsettled Isaac. “I told you.”

“I don’t think you have. You’ve implied it.” 

Isaac walked around until he was face to face with Scott. “I wanted to go on a date with you.”

“Because you like me.”

“I hope I do, or what we did for the last hour is kinda creepy.”

“Is that all you want?” Scott’s eyes searched his face. 

“Making out with you sounds fun.”

“Okay.” Scott nodded and he sounded like he was talking more to himself. “Okay. I think I can do that.”

“You think you can make out with me?” 

Scott rolled his eyes. “Do you want go to my house or not?”

It wasn’t the most romantic trip. They had to ride the bus — they had walked to the movie theater when it was earlier, and Isaac didn’t want to spend an hour on the road and let Scott’s permissive mood vanish.

They sat next to each other, with virtually no space between them, as the bus pulled out. They must have been quite a sight, disheveled and sweaty partiers. 

Isaac looked down at Scott next to him with his eyes closed as they rattled down the road. Impulsively, Isaac reached over and took the other boy’s hand. Scott’s pulse fluttered and then, gently, he rested his head on Isaac’s shoulder.

Isaac’s throat constricted. He felt like a domestic cat that had finally captured the bird but didn’t know what to do with it. It was an instinct to go after what he wanted, but what came next, he realized he didn’t know.

Eventually, the bus pulled to the corner of Williamson Road. They walked up to the street until they stood on the sidewalk. “This is my house.” Scott’s voice prodded him. 

“Yeah.”

“You wanted to come in?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to come in?”

Scott bit his lip. “I do.”

Isaac tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

“’Cause I want to make out with you.”

In a wave of self-defeating frustration, Isaac opened his mouth. “Are you going to imagine I’m Allison?” When he realized what he said, he almost bit off his own tongue. “I’m sorry, I thought I could be suave about this, but I don’t understand how you can be one way for a minute and then just turn around and be another way.”

“Allison is not just my girlfriend … my ex-girlfriend.” Scott said. “She’s my anchor. She’s always going to be important to me. I told her I knew we were going to be together but honestly? She might never come back.”

Isaac kept the smirk off his face. _Good._

“I almost died, dude, three times this year.” Scott held out his hand. “We were dancing, and all I could think about, all I could keep thinking about was that I was glad I lived long enough to dance with Isaac Lahey.” 

Isaac’s insides twisted pleasantly again. 

“So I don’t know what’s gonna happen at the end of the summer, but if you still wanna come inside?” His hand hung invitingly in the air.

The door closed softly behind them. The stars in the summer sky shone brilliantly.


End file.
